Mattie's Scare
by Psyche3426
Summary: Matthew Williams, alone at home, answers the door to some. . .suspicious characters. AU, PrussiaxCanada (because I love them together!) Human names used. For now, a one shot, but may become longer. . .
1. Chapter 1

The carriage lights flickered as the train sped through the tunnel. Matthew Williams, a 20 year old Canadian with chin length wavy blonde hair with one curl that refused to stay down, deep blue eyes and thin wire framed glasses perched on his nose glanced upwards nervously and wrung his hands together. He wore a white hoodie with '100% AUTHENTIC MAPLE SYRUP' printed on the front in red writing and blue jeans. Black converse shoes were planted firmly on the floor, white socks with polar bears on them peeking out of the gap between his shoes and pants. His brown messenger bag was on his lap, strap still situated comfortably around him. Al always did say that he was too worried, but Matthew couldn't help it! He was just always so scared that someone would steal something from him. Not that it mattered; no one seemed to notice him at all. Earlier that day he had gone to order a coffee and the waitress had skipped over him in the line. He had decided that it wasn't worth it anyway, and had just left.

Matthew owned and worked at a small café in the city two blocks away from his apartment, living with his half-brother Alfred in the city. Matthew was often mistaken for Alfred, even though he claimed they looked nothing alike. Alfred had shorter hair, also blonde, bright light blue eyes and a million-watt smile. His confidence levels were off the scales and he had a severe hero complex. Matthew was shy and soft-spoken, almost invisible to all but his brother and his best friend, a loud punk named Gilbert Beilschmidt who had taken to calling him Birdie, supposedly because he reminded Gil of his own pet canary, Gilbird. Their friendship had baffled both of the boys other friends, but that didn't stop Mattie and Gil.

At the moment, Matt was on his way home. Usually Alfred would be with him but he was out drinking with his partner Arthur, so Mattie was all alone. Normally he was okay with being alone, most people forgot him anyway, but tonight his paranoid streak was raising its ugly head more than usual and Mattie was on the verge of having a heart attack every time someone stepped near him.

At his stop Mattie had to restrain himself from sprinting off the train like a crazy person. He sped through the darkness in the pouring rain. Checking his watch, he realised that the train must have been delayed somewhat, as it was almost 10.00pm.

Finally reaching his apartment building he rummaged through his bag for the key, cold and clumsy fingers fumbling at the lock for what seemed like an eternity. He eventually slammed the door open, throwing his bag hap hazardously on the couch and rushing to his room to change his sopping wet clothes. He grabbed whatever he saw first, ending up with a pair of warm sweatpants and a hoodie that read 'CANADIAN AND PROUD'. His room was relatively tidy, ice hockey gear polished and set aside in a corner, Canadian flag adorning the wall above his bed. Quickly getting changed, throwing his saturated clothes in the laundry and grabbing a hand towel to dry his dripping hair Mattie padded into the kitchen, turning on the heater as he went. He made himself a steaming hot chocolate to the sound of rain pelting the building. Still quite cold he settled himself on the couch and flicked on the TV to some random trashy show. Mildly interested, he slowly leaned back, letting himself relax after a day of constant activity. After a few moments a knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. Confused, Mattie glanced at the clock on the wall. 10.45. Slowly he stood, the feeling of uneasiness from before returning. Alfred had said that he'd probably crash at Arthur's, and either way he had a key. Unless he had lost it, which happened quite a bit. Putting his hot chocolate on the coffee table, he silently walked over to the door.

Opening the door and peering out, Matthew's eyes widened. Standing in front of him were two absolutely drenched children. One looked about in his teens, the other a little younger .They had short black hair and looked unhealthily skinny beneath their torn and water-logged clothes. Their heads were bowed forward, eyes hidden beneath a straight black curtain of hair. Matthew felt an inexplicable feeling of dread, as if he needed to slam the door and run at any second. The older one, without looking up, spoke with a voice that sounded beyond his years and it makes Mattie shudder.

'My brother and I are stuck out in the rain. May we please come in to use your phone to call our parents?'

Matthew froze, a cold feeling creeping through him. He didn't know why, but he did not want to let these children into his house. He apologised, saying his phone didn't work, when in fact it was functioning perfectly well.

'I-I'm sorry, b-but my ph-phone isn't w-working. T-there's a g-gas sta-station down the r-road, though. I'm s-sorry.'

He silently cursed his stutter which got worse when he was scared. Matthew went to close the door, unnerved by the children who had yet to look at him. Just before the door was about to cut off his view of the children the elder spoke again.

'May we come in and use the restroom? It is raining and we would love to come in for a bit.'

Now Mattie was battling between instinct and logic. These children were soaked, asking politely for him to help them. What cold hearted person wouldn't help them? Yet they instigated a visceral fear in him that he couldn't shake. He couldn't bring himself to let them in.

'I-I'm sorry. R-really I am. I c-can give y-you directions t-to the gas s-station d-down the road.'

'We would really like to come in. Won't you let us come in.'

The youngest intoned, in a quiet voice. Then suddenly they both looked up at Matthew. That's when he saw the eyes. Pitch black all over, as if someone had scooped out both of the boys eyes and injected the sockets with ink as black as night. There's nothing there except emptiness.

Matthew let out a small yelp, lurched back, slamming the door shut and deadlocking it.

'W-w-what. . .'

By this stage Mattie is stumbling over to the phone on the kitchen bench, tears streaming down his face and shaking violently as he hurriedly punches in the only number that he has memorised so thoroughly that he doesn't have to even look at the keypad for. Holding the ringing phone to his ear he runs to his room, throwing the covers over him as choked sobs fill the small space.

After 5 rings the phone is answered,

_'Ja, this is the awesome Gilbert speaking. . .'_

'G-gil? C-can y-you. . .'

Gil cut him off at the sound of his voice.

_'Mattie? What's the matter mein leibling? Did something happen? Do you want me to co-'_

'NO! You can't. . .can't come! They might still be h-here. . .'

Matthew cringed at how desperate he sounded, but didn't pay it much thought.

_'Mattie, who might still be there?'_

_Gil's voice was suddenly as sharp as a knife. _

_'I'm coming over right now. Don't worry, the awesome me will make sure you're safe!'_

_Matthew sat upright._

_'__But you might get-'_

_'Matthew, do you trust me?'_

_'__Well, yes, but-'_

_'Then trust me to keep both of us awesome. You don't have to worry about a single thing. Just sit tight, you're at your place, ja?'_

_'…__yes.'_

_'Gut. I'll be over as fast as I can.'_

_Matthew slumped down again, a battle between relief and fear for Gilbert swirling inside him._


	2. Chapter 2

Gilbert Beilschmidt was slightly tipsy. He lounged on his orange couch, half empty bottle of Bitburger beer hanging from mere fingertips, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. Lazily he dragged a pale hand through already dishevelled white hair before reaching over and changing the channel on his beat up television.

Gil sighed and sunk lower into the couch, shirtless torso standing out like a pale beacon against the bright orange of the couch. He downed the rest of his beer before groaning, red eyes scrunching closed.

'Fuck! I'm so goddamned bored!' Gil yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. He fell to the side and twisted to lie on his back on the couch. Reaching behind him for something, anything to relieve his boredom, his hands finally fell upon a small plastic square. Unimpressed with his find, Gil lifted the object over his head to inspect it.

A small red and white McDonalds toy greeted him. It was one of those little kiddie prizes where you launched rings through water with the aim to hook them on one of two hooks. Gil smiled at the unlikely memory which accompanied this particular item.

'_Really Gil? McDonalds? You couldn't have picked an unhealthier place, could you.' Mattie grinned as he teased Gil, leaning over a little to poke his arm. _

'_Don't bag McDonalds! You know I live off this stuff when I'm visiting America, 'sides, it's only for an ice cream for mein awesome boyfriend!'_

_Mattie lurched back slightly at the last comment, a light blush dusting over his cheeks and his eyes looking anywhere but the man sitting next to him driving. Gil glanced over, eyes widening slightly at how cute his birdie looked before his mouth settling into a smirk. Mattie's mouth was parted slightly, as if he was going to say something, but refrained from doing so at the last minute. _

'_Aww, is mein vögelchen blushing?' Gil prodded, keeping one eye on road but the other glued to Matthew, waiting to see his reaction. At Gil's statement Mattie's blush only intensified._

'_Am not.' He muttered, hands twisting together in his lap. One of Gilbert's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing. Glancing over at his boyfriend Mattie just stared at him for a minute before speaking._

'_. . .shut up.'_

'_I'm not saying anything!'_

'_You're thinking it.' At this point Mattie was facing the complete opposite direction, arms crossed defiantly and trying to force down his ever increasing blush. Grinning, Gil leant out his window slightly to order their ice creams. _

They had been given the toy at the counter. Gilbert still wasn't sure entirely why they had been given it, but the girl who had served them had stared for a minute before ducking down, and the next thing Gil knew was a kid's toy had wormed itself into the wrapping of their ice creams.

Smiling at the memory, Gil playfully pressed the little button which launched the rings towards their target, expecting the launch to get most of the rings onto the hooks. His smile fell as all the rings missed by a mile.

He sat still for a minute, staring silently at the little toy. He was so sure. . .

He pressed the button again. Another miss, but this time closer. Red eyes narrowed at the toy, his finger mashing into the button again.

An hour later found Gilbert sitting up on his couch jerking the toy wildly as he yelled at the stupid yellow ring, the only band to not be hooked.

'Yes, yes, YES! Come on, you stupid stück scheiße! We can DO THIS! YEAH!' Gilbert stood up suddenly as the ring floated down, down, towards the hook. . . and knocked another band, causing both rings to fall to the bottom again.

Gil froze. 'No. . . no, NEIN! Wie. . . das kann nicht wahr sein! Oh Gott, nein!'

Falling to his knees, Gil held the plastic toy in front of him. He stared at it, disbelieving.

'Ich war. . . so nah. . . so sehr nah. Ich kann das nicht glauben. Sie waren es! Dumme gelbe fischeier von SATAN! Wie kann _ich_ gescheitert sind?'

He continued to mutter curses in German, softly shaking the toy so as to not dislodge any other of the rings. He would have continued to drown in his failure, if his cell phone hadn't rung just then.

Trudging over to where his phone lay on the coffee table Gil slowly picked it up, not bothering in his despair to check the caller ID.

'Ja, this is the awesome Gilbert speaking. . .'

_'G-gil? C-can y-you. . .'_

Gil immediately sat upright, instantly sober at the sound of Mattie's trembling voice.

_'_Mattie? What's the matter mein leibling? Did something happen? Do you want me to co-'

_'NO! You can't. . .can't come! They might still be h-here. . .'_

'Mattie, who might still be there?'

Gil was filled with a mix of panic and anger.

'I'm coming over right now. Don't worry, the awesome me will make sure you're safe!'

_'__But you might get-'_

'Matthew, do you trust me?'

_'__Well, yes, but-'_

'Then trust me to keep both of us awesome. You don't have to worry about a single thing. Just sit tight, you're at your place, ja?'

_'__…yes.'_

'Gut. I'll be over as fast as I can.'

Then, without further ado, Gil hung up the phone, abandoning it on the couch before running to his motorbike, pausing only to shove his helmet on.

**Hullo! Sorry for the wait (I'm so lazy), and the short chapter. Hopefully (don't get your hopes up, swedishly) the next chapter should be out in the next week or so. Depends on how productive I'm feeling. But, it should be an interesting chapter! Do they find each other? Or has something happened to Matthew? Dun dun DUNNNN! **

**I don't speak, nor am I, German, so if I offended you with my improper google translated german, I am so sorry. Not. **

**Uh, yeah. That's all? Sorry if Gil's a little OOC, am warming up to him hopefully. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

As Gil entered his boyfriend's apartment quickly, unlocking the door with the key that Matthew had given him a few weeks ago, he was almost buzzing with worry. On the drive over he had unwillingly gone over every situation that could possibly have happened. He desperately hoped that nothing had actually happened and Mattie had just had a nightmare, or Alfred had made him watch another scary video, or. . .or anything but what had been going through his head for the past 20 minutes. If anyone had even _thought _of touching Matthew then they wouldn't be alive to see the next day. Practically tearing the door off its hinges Gil stormed through the front door, yelling for Matthew. When no-one answered back Gil's panic rose almost impossibly.

Tearing down the corridor past the lounge room Gil called again.

'BIRDIE! MATTHEW! Please, please answer me. . .'

Not caring about the neighbour's complaints that were sure to come, Gilbert threw open every door in the apartment so hard that they banged loudly against the walls. Finding himself back where he started, and every door in the apartment having been almost decimated, Gilbert's panic slowly started turning to anger.

'No, NEIN!' At his yell Gilbert simultaneously swung his fist at the wall, accidentally punching a hole in the plaster.

'Gottverdammt, MATTHEW!' Gilbert pulled away from the wall, knuckles bloody from where the wall had cut him.

'Gilbert? What on earth are you. . .'

Gilbert whirled around to face Matthew's next door neighbour, Arthur Kirkland. The British man was wearing a hastily tied dressing gown over blue and white striped pyjamas. His forest green eyes were scuffed burgundy slippers on.

'Arthur! Have you seen Matthew?' Gil swiftly walked up to the Brit and grabbed his shoulders roughly.

'I don't – what?'

'Have you seen Matthew? Please Arthur, I need to know.'

'I-who?'

'Where is he?' Gilbert stepped closer again, practically growling at Arthur, eyes narrowed.

Arthur tried to step backwards from Gilbert's grasp, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words.

'Gilbert, I think you need to sit down.'

'I don't need to sit, I need to find Matthew!'

'Gilbert, please, come sit, have a cup of tea, and . . . get a shirt. Then I'll talk to you and tell you where. . .Matthew is.'

'Fine.' Gilbert reluctantly let go of Arthur's shoulders, and the Englishman sighed and brushed out the wrinkles that Gil's fingers had made in his dressing gown. Stepping back, he started walking down to his apartment that was a floor down from Matthews. They spent the walk in silence.

Arriving at Arthur's apartment, they were met at the door by Alfred F. Jones, Matthew's foster brother. Alfred was also in his pyjamas, a massive Captain America t-shirt and a pair of blue boxers. He looked as if he had been woken only recently, with his wire framed glasses slightly skewed on his face and his hair looking like someone had gone at it with gel and a hair dryer. Ignoring Alfred's look of surprise and confusion bar to quietly ask him to get Gilbert a shirt, Arthur led Gil down to the small kitchen. Gil looked down, realising that his chest was still bare, but his brain not registering it as overly important in comparison to Matthew's apparent disappearance.

Gilbert sat down quietly at Arthur's small kitchen table, slumping in his seat as various scenario's which would have caused Matthew to flee ran through his head. Truthfully, in 20 minutes so many things could have happened. Matthew could have run, but what could have forced him to do that? What if someone came and. . .took him? What if someone took him away and he was locked up somewhere, in terrible conditions, being tortured? What if he was being. . .violated. . .

Gilbert was jolted out of his thoughts, and conveniently so as he was working himself into a frenzy, by Alfred coming back and handing him a bright red t-shirt that Gilbert found was massive on him before retreating to lean against the doorway between kitchen and corridor. Absently Gil noted that the bright colour of the shirt made his skin look translucent as paper.

He looks up as Arthur sits opposite him and places a cup of tea in an ornate teacup in front of him.

'Now, Gilbert. What happened, and who are you looking for?'

Gilbert sits up and looks incredulously at Arthur before answering.

'Matthew. I'm looking for Matthew.'

Arthur's confused expression, and this time Alfred's as well as he listens in, ignites in turn a confused look from Gilbert.

'You know, purple eyes, glasses, blonde hair, about this long,' Gilbert waves one pale hand just above his shoulder. Frustration is leaking into his voice now, along with another spark of worry. He turns to Alfred, who raises an eyebrow questioningly.

'Your foster brother? Matthew Williams? Adorable Canadian who lives a floor up? Who's apartment you,' Gilbert rounds on Arthur again, 'found me in?'

Neither Arthur or Alfred's faces hold even a smidge of recognition of the man he's describing.

'Sorry dude, but I don't _have_ a foster brother.'

Gilbert whirls on Alfred, getting more and more frustrated and waving his arms around when he talks.

'You _do _have a foster brother, and his name is Matthew, and he's my boyfriend!'

Gilbert is standing now and glaring ferociously at Alfred, who has backed up a few steps and has half raised his hands in a show of surrender to Gil's anger.

'Gilbert, please sit down.'

Arthur takes a sip of his tea and has a look of complete concentration on his face. His eyebrows are so knotted together that Gilbert absently wonders whether they are now fused into one. Gilbert remains standing.

'Now Gilbert, I'm sure that we'll get to the bottom of this,' Arthur took another sip of tea, and with every second that passed the air seemed to grow tenser.

'. . .but I'm afraid that I've never heard of this Matthew fellow before. Are you sure that he even lived here?'

**Gah, what is this? Gone for months and now two chapters in a few days? I know, I know, I may be possessed. Not my fault. Hmm, thank you to all my reviewers/followers/favouriters, you guys make my day! Feel free to send me any suggestions for where this story should go, I can't promise that I'll use them, but the ideas will help. **


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